


Discretion

by astrangerenters



Category: Arashi (Band), Japanese Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Butlers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-17
Updated: 2011-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-25 17:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/272702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was times like these when Sakurai-san's many gifts came in handy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discretion

Sakurai-san had come with good references:

"Able to suitably maintain the household and other staff."  
"Well-versed in balancing the household budget."  
"An utter professional, loyal and attentive but not simpering."

It was just what the Lady Meisa required in a butler. She was away so often, unlike most other ladies of her station. Those ladies who were content to sit on their backsides and knit before the fire or waste time practicing how to be submissive to a future spouse. The Lady Meisa preferred to travel and explore, getting her hands dirty in a tomb or twenty and returning with riches that enabled her to finance subsequent expeditions.

So she needed a man like Sakurai-san to manage the Kuroki estate in her absence. She also needed someone with Sakurai-san's discretion to keep her satisfied. Out in the wilderness, it was all the excitement she needed, but back home at the estate she was expected to receive visitors and be trapped within the walls until she could escape again.

It was times like these when Sakurai-san's many gifts came in handy.

At present, Meisa was feeling rather trapped. A bore of an old woman from the next town over had come to call that afternoon, and she had finally dozed off in a rocking chair in Meisa's sitting room. When Sakurai-san returned to collect the tea tray, Meisa let one of her long legs jut out to prevent the butler from moving forward.

"Sakurai-san," she whispered. "I am in need of some entertainment."

He nodded politely as he always did. "Yes, m'lady. Shall I return the tray first or remain?"

She gestured to the table where he'd picked it up. "Set it back down," she ordered as the old woman, Lady something or other, let out a most unladylike snore.

Meisa stood, leaving the old woman to her nap and headed for the sitting room desk, easing her way on top of it and sliding her legs apart so Sakurai-san could meander his way over to stand between them. "M'lady, it scandalizes me to know we are in the presence of another," he hinted, full lips quirking in amusement.

"Then I shall require some of your famous discretion," she replied, unlacing the front of her dress so Sakurai-san would have an easier time of it.

He maintained his firm, professional demeanor. "If it please Your Ladyship."

She reached for his hand and the starched white glove that covered it. "You may touch me now, Sakurai-san."

"If it please Your Ladyship," he repeated.

But Sakurai-san was still a man, and Meisa watched his eyes as his pupils grew larger. He brought one gloved hand to her face, fingers ghosting across her cheek and drifting across her lips. The other hand sought her waist, but not possessively enough for her to protest. He was, as always, professional.

His thumb lingered on her bottom lip, and she could smell the clean cotton of his glove. He probably had a few dozen pairs, properly laundered and pressed like the rest of his clothing. Meisa let her teeth grab hold of the tip of Sakurai-san's thumb, and he didn't make a sound as she tugged back, pulling the glove from his hand, exposing his long, thin fingers. She let the glove drop soundlessly into her lap.

She took his other hand from her waist, still gloved, and slipped it into her loosened gown, bringing it to her breast. He obediently began to touch her, his cotton-covered thumb finding her nipple and stroking attentively. She looked straight into his eyes, and the desk beneath them creaked as she drew him forward, holding the wrist of his ungloved hand and moving his fingers to her lips.

She closed her eyes and took each finger into her mouth one at a time, sucking at the warm skin and feeling each finger against her tongue. His hand was working magic at her breast, and she adored the sharp intakes of breath from him with each additional finger she took into her mouth. She pressed her lips to each finger as she withdrew them from her mouth, smiling and meeting his eyes.

"She's still asleep then?" Meisa asked, looking past Sakurai-san's shoulder.

"So it would appear," Sakurai-san replied, withdrawing his hand from inside her dress.

She leaned forward to rest her arms on his shoulders. "Touch me then."

"Which hand, m'lady?"

The cotton of his gloves would be a bit too scratchy. She preferred the warmth of his actual hands, tilting her head just the slightest bit to indicate which hand she wanted. He brought his index and middle fingers into his own mouth then, rewetting them and moving his hand down between her legs. If he was at all surprised for her lack of undergarments and obvious preparation for him, he gave no indication. It was why she paid him so well.

He found her easily, and she was wet and ready as his fingers slid within her as she had requested. She sighed quietly in her approval, leaning her forehead against his as he began to expertly work his fingers inside of her at the pace she preferred. They'd done this dance before. Meisa's guest continued to doze in her seat as Meisa's butler paid her body excellent attention. He eventually withdrew his fingers and attended to her clit instead, working her gradually from warm arousal to a growing fever pitch.

She bit her lip to keep her whimpering quiet, feeling his warm puffs of breath against her face as he touched her with little interruption, returning his fingers deep inside her every time she came close to climaxing so that her pleasure might be prolonged. But after a few brief reprieves, she squeezed his shoulders, indicating that he needn't bother relenting now.

She knew he was probably hard within his suit slacks, that he'd have to walk calmly out of the room soon only to make haste to his own quarters to finish himself off. The thought of her calm, thoughtful butler attending to his own needs in private so that she might be pleased first was enough of a rush on its own, but then Sakurai-san's fingers were insistent, and she could no longer bear it, her thighs trembling as she came in as close to silence as she could manage. He touched her in slow, soothing circles as she came down, finally removing his hand from under her dress.

Meisa moved away from him, feeling flushed and warm and utterly pleased. He was breathing heavier than usual, and her body was more than willing to accept him within, but she had already been a rude enough hostess.

She picked up Sakurai-san's discarded glove and handed it to him. "The tea tray, if you wouldn't mind. The afternoon is yours."

"Your Ladyship is most kindhearted," Sakurai-san replied calmly, though one of the veins in his neck was bulging with the effort it took to maintain his facade.

She stayed on the desk, watching the slightly stiff way he left the room, tea tray in his hands. There. The afternoon had greatly improved, she thought, as her guest finally began to stir from her nap.


End file.
